


Take Me Home

by bicycles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adorable Castiel, Adorkable, Crack, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:49:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bicycles/pseuds/bicycles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel showed up and told Dean he'd found the meaning of life, Dean was impressed - until he realized Castiel meant One Direction. Crack!Fic, possibly OOC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me Home

**Author's Note:**

> Essentially, my best friend said, "there should be a crack!fic where Cas tries to convince Dean that One Direction songs have a deep meaning." This was what I came up with. No offense meant to One Direction, or their fans, or really, Supernatural, as... What did I just do?

The first time it happened Dean was driving home from a hunt. He'd been drumming along to "Moby Dick" when he heard the familiar flutter of wings next to him.

"Cas," Dean said, without missing a beat. He was just about to ease into the final guitar licks when the song changed. His hand stopped in mid-air. He only had to look down to see Castiel fiddling with the radio. " _Cas_ , what the hell man?"

"Dean, I've found the meaning of life."

"Oh?"

Dean would have been lying, if he said he wasn't curious. It had been a long time since Castiel had just appeared in his car, and honestly, if it took the meaning of life to bring him here, he'd take it. That was - until a catchy snare and symbol beat reached his ears. Keeping one eye on the road, Dean turned the other to glare at his angel best friend.

"What the hell is this? Is this -"

He couldn't even say it. _One Direction_ in his _baby_. His baby.

"It's the meaning of life." The way Castiel sat so primly, practically beaming up at Dean, left Dean at a loss for words. He spluttered a few obscenities and then slammed his hand against the radio. But instead of hitting the off switch, he'd jammed against the volume. Suddenly, he was driving down I-70, blasting "that what makes you beautiful" at top volume. Dean wanted to slam his head against the windshield, but considering the distance between him and his desired object of oblivion, it seemed impossible.

What made the situation worse was Castiel. Not only was he sitting as if he had discovered fire and had shared it with the world. He was _singing_.

"Right now, I'm looking at you and I can't believe..." The angel hummed along softly, occassionally tapping the beat against the dashboard. This was - to be completely honest - surreal, and it was lucky that Dean didn't just swerve off the road into a tree. He admitted to himself that it might be a better than end than this. Whatever this was.

"Cas."

"Shh, Dean, this part is the best."

Maybe it was the pleading insistence of the angel, or maybe it was the way that he leaned a little bit too close. Dean hesitated, but not for long.

"Cas," Dean repeated, shutting the radio off. "There's no way in hell we're listening to that in MY car."

"Fine, Dean."

He didn't even need the sound of fluttering wings, or the huff in Castiel's voice, to know that he was alone again. He stared out at the empty interstate. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't piece together what had just happened. Had Castiel just poofed in to tell him about the latest pop song? And what the hell did that have to do with the meaning of life? Giving up, Dean turned the radio back on. The song was still playing and, despite all reason, Dean found himself humming along to the last few bars -- as if a catchy pop song actually could have _meaning_.

He really was fucked.

* * * 

The second time Castiel appeared Dean was at the bunker. He had been lying on his back, practicing his air guitar solo to "Over the Hills and Far Away," when the angel walked in.

"Cas!" Dean didn't know how he knew it was Cas. Only Sam didn't usually stride with such purpose across his room, or actually come to think of it - fail to knock. Luckily, Dean wasn't lounging around in his bathrobe. "What are you doing here?" He propped himself on his elbows, feeling immense pleasure at how they sank into the memory foam mattress. 

"Dean, I know what I did wrong."

Dean couldn't even remember what Castiel could have done to be wrong. Except that it had definitely interrupted a seriously good Zeppelin song. He hadn't even seen the angel since that time in the car. They both had been too busy: Cas with whatever he did when Dean wasn't around, Dean with Sam. He was, in fact, just considering all the possible things that could have happened when the angel slipped a vinyl record from his coat. Well, this was new. From the looks of it, it was brand new. Dean hadn't ever considered that maybe angels liked music, or _bought_ records.

"What the hell, Cas? This is the second time..."

He didn't have to finish that sentence because in the next beat, there was that unfamiliar, almost synthetic, guitar sound. Castiel had yet again managed to swap good Zeppelin for One Direction. Only this time, they were in _his_ room, and that was _his_ stereo. Dean sat up immediately, staring at Castiel. He opened his mouth several times, but he couldn't exactly figure out what to say. How did you tell an angel of the Lord that he was mistaken about the meaning of life? Especially when he seemed very keen to believe it? Nevermind that the last time Castiel had proposed a solution to life, he'd ended up at the end of the story covered in black goo, on his way to Purgatory.

"Dean," Cas said. It wasn't the first time that Dean thought the angel could read minds. "Let me explain... People have been around for ages, and I've been thinking - why is that? Why do they keep going? And this is it."

"This is pop music."

"Says the man who once explained the meaning of life using a Kansas song." There was a definite taunt in Castiel's voice. "What are they asking us? To be ourselves? To live life? To take chances? How isn't that the _meaning_ of life? Isn't that free will? Choices?"

"Pop. Music."

"Well, fuck you, Dean. I like it." 

There was no hatred in Castiel's voice. He looked positively pleased that he'd riled Dean up this much. As the music played, Castiel shed himself of his overcoat, tie, and jacket. He seemed to be counting the beats, waiting for the precise moment, as if he'd listened to these songs a hundred times. Come to think of it, Dean thought, staring at his swaying angel friend, he probably had. The chorus broke Dean's thoughts. Or rather, the crescendo of poppy tunes combined with Castiel's dancing crazily around the room, singing the words to his ceiling. 

"Cas?"

"Come on, Dean. Dance with me."

Those were the last words that Dean had ever expected to here. Especially from Castiel, the perpetually uptight nerd angel. And yeah, this would have been totally a _girl_ moment. Except Castiel had grabbed his hands and dragged Dean off his very comfortable mattress. Suddenly, Dean found himself being forced to throw his hands in the air, and spun around like a madman, while Castiel was singing in his ear...

"Don't over think... Just let it go..."

Yeah. This was a girl moment. What worried Dean was how much he was about to give into this, how much he just wanted to drag Castiel on the bed and jump up and down. Live while you're young, right? Turning up the volume on his stereo, he grabbed Castiel's hand and pulled him on the bed. Castiel didn't seem to know what to do at first, but then Dean pulled him closer. His memory mattress wasn't the same as those old spring mattresses back home, but it was the same concept. "If you're going to be a total teenage girl," Dean said, close to Castiel's ear, "this is how you do it." 

When Sam walked in almost ten minutes later, shouting at him to shut it the fuck off, Dean was surprised. He had forgotten that Sam was still there, too busy showing his nerd angel all the ins-and-outs and teenage girldom. Not that Dean had any experience in that department. No, he definitely wasn't lying on his bed, spooned into an angel, discussing the deeper meanings of One Direction lyrics. Castiel already had an entire head canon for each word, and it amazed Dean how much _thought_ Castiel had put into this. Mostly, it amazed Dean that Castiel even had these thoughts. He had always thought that angels saw everything in black-and-white, straightforward, but maybe since coming back from Purgatory, they were both a little off-kilter. A little incapable of going back to the old ways. Hadn't Dean found that with Benny? 

Whatever it was that had changed, this felt right. Well, maybe not the teenage girl music, but being with Castiel and Sam, that was definitely right.

* * * 

Truth be told, Dean hadn't ever felt as carefree as he had when Castiel was with him. It didn't matter that the last few times had mostly been the angel trying to explain the meaning of life to him through One Direction. Hell, Castiel was his best friend, and sometimes best friends did that. They liked weird things, which you didn't understand, and just sort of went with. Because you were best friends, and nothing else mattered. 

Needless to say, Dean kind of expected it the next time Castiel showed up with his latest One Direction song. Only he hadn't expected it to be in a diner, on a case, with Garth. Dean and Garth were having a chat about a local vampire nest when there was the familiar sound of wings next to him.

"Fuck, Cas, warning," Dean said, shifting over. 

"Dean, they're about to play One Direction."

Garth arched an eyebrow at them, as though he wanted to ask. But Dean glared him down. "Cas, how the fuck do you know that?" 

"I hijacked their sound system."

"Whoa, dude, you like your One Direction."

And Garth's contribution was so not helpful right now. Dean didn't know whether to be impressed or annoyed. Frankly, he was just too busy thinking about threading his hands through Castiel's hair, and singing "What Makes You Beautiful."

Dean knew in that moment he was totally fucked. People didn't have those thoughts about their best friends. Especially when those best friends happened to be hot nerd angels obsessed with pop music. Really, his life could only get worse.

And in the next moment it did.

"What the hell is this?"

"It's their new song."

He didn't know how it happened. Suddenly, Garth was both in the booth across from them and not at all there. Dean was too busy staring at Castiel, staring at those chapped lips stumbling over the words to a song, which by all rights, he should not know existed. He was an angel of the Lord. Didn't he have seraph hymns to learn?

"And if you... you want me to... let's make a..."

If he were asked later, Dean would have sworn that he didn't do it. Except one minute Castiel was singing, singing directly to him, with his head tilted up towards his. And the next minute, he had his lips on Castiel's. The other man's lips felt rough against his, just as he'd expected. Dean pulled back, and he thought he saw Garth secretly fist-pumping. The bastard. "Cas."

"Take me home, Dean."


End file.
